Instant regret.
Seth hardly even flinches; the only indication the water has hit its intended target is by the way it coats his face and collar. Slowly, as not to make any sudden movements, I set the glass back down onto the counter and take tiny but hurried steps back. Seth stands up straight, wiping his face with his sleeve. I expect a contemptuous smile but instead am greeted with an undecipherable neutrality. I'm halfway between the kitchen and sunken living room. Seth is rooted where he stands. I'm scared of what will happen when he becomes unrooted.
"Did that make you feel better?" he asks.
"Not really...though I wish it did."
Something comes over me—a dark cloud of sorts. I keep my eyes on Seth as I walk past him towards the stove. The food smells better than anything I've ev
